


The Joke's On Me

by Simon_says_fly



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Amnesia, Captured Hero, F/M, Mutilation, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Pretty Dark Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 13:58:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simon_says_fly/pseuds/Simon_says_fly
Summary: She'd do anything for him. He was her world... well, her world for as long as she could remember. But what else was there?  And he had the world at his feet... so where else should she be?Harley Quinn belonged with her Puddin'.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just in a dark mood these days. This may stay a one shot. I really don't see much else, unless this turns into a rescue story of some type. But then... what would happen? I'm not sure there's coming back from this.

"Ooohhh." She giggled maniacally. "Good one, Mistah Jay. Anotha' direct hit. Can I take a turn? Please, Mistah Jay? Please?"

The somewhat blonde woman... dressed like a sorority girl ready for Halloween, all made up as a deranged, very slutty clown, danced back and forth. The other occupants of the room, mostly full of generic henchmen and lackeys, tried to give off the appearance of ignoring her dressed in a colorful corset and short miniskirt, while their boss... the one in the purple suit, was firing paint pellets at their captured hostage. 

Pausing his continuous torment of the victim, "Mistah Jay" turned his attention to the woman, the everlasting smile on his face not changing at all. "Harley. What have I told you repeatedly?"

Harley stopped her bouncing (much to the obvious disappointment of the other males in the room) and pouted. "Ugm. Never to interrupt when Daddy is working." All traces of any dialect or accent vanishing. She looked down. "I'm sorry."

The Joker... the Clown Prince of Crime... nodded. "You'll have to be punished, of course. It's expected."

"Yes, sir." Her eyes never leaving the floor in front of her. 

He handed the paintball gun over to one of the nearby peons. It didn't matter who; everyone in the room was his; especially the hostage. The Joker patted the sole woman in the room on top of her head and walked past her, over to where a window pane was mostly intact. He carefully checked his reflection, smoothing the green hair away from his forehead and wiping away any lint or whatever else from his jacket. Finally sure he looked impeccable, he took a deep breath before returning to what he'd been doing before the interruption. 

The peon who held his current weapon of choice... Thug Number Four, maybe? He handed the paintball gun back into her master's waiting hand without having to be told. Good lad. Maybe a promotion to Number Three? But that would require her or the Joker killing one of the three above him. A thought for another time, perhaps. 

Checking that the ammunition level was full, he turned to glance back at his target. Nightwing. What a ridiculous name. Too good, apparently, to be The Boy Wonder anymore. Good help was so hard to find. Batman's new Robin wasn't all that great... and now this one was going to be ruined. 

Oh, well...

Lifting the scope up to his eye, the Joker carefully took aim at Nightwing's crotch, already covered in a multitude of paint splatters. She watched as he squeezed the trigger... another direct hit. The costumed and still masked hero made such wonderful sounds with each hit to his balls... would they still work? Maybe she could help the abused former sidekick get it up so that he could take more shots at it. 

Maybe some more humiliation first, though. His dark blue and gray costume was already ruined. Not that it was much to look at before being covered in paint. 

"Harley? Dearest?" 

"Yes, Mistah Jay, sir?"

"Help our guest out of his clothes. From here, dear."

"Absolutely, Mistah Jay." The slutty costumed blonde bounced closer. She knew that her master liked for her to be close when she did things like this. 

Carefully, Harley Quinn pushed the blue and pink strands of hair away from her face as she stared at the hostage. The Boy Hostage. Wasn't that what Dent used to call him? She shook the thought from her head and concentrated. Her blue eyes suddenly glowing unnaturally until twin beams of energy shot forth and began to peal the costume off from the former Robin.

Everyone on this side of the warehouse, save the Joker, stepped back. Harley rarely openly demonstrated her otherworldly abilities, but she wasn't going to disobey. Not when she was already in trouble. 

She giggled once finished. Nightwing was practically naked, just his boots and mask remaining. Normally, he might make for a fine figure of a man, but the bruises and cuts adorning his flesh... not even remarking on the shackles on his wrists holding him off the floor, left him looking broken. Used and ready to be discarded. But, he was naked, and obviously male. Harley made sure not to lick her lips.

"Thank you, little one."

She preened under the Joker's praise. "I did good?"

"Don't be greedy, Harley." His permanent smile seemed a touch real. "But, yes, you did fine." 

The pale man sniffed as he looked towards the almost broken hero. He looked Nightwing over, from head to foot, and then back up; contemplation covered his expression. 

"Is he better equipped than me?"

Harley knew her eyes widened at the question. Things were about to get a lot worse... maybe for everybody. Everywhere. Mister Jay was always at his most deranged when he was feeling inadequate. She'd already made the mistake, once, when he learned of her liaisons with Poison Ivy. He had spent days whipping at her invulnerable skin. The lashes hadn't hurt, but his words... at her betraying him... she had cried during ever swing of the razor tipped leather, wishing that it would cut her, knowing that none of it could match the guilt Harley felt. And then he'd gone and let loose the poison gas in Midway City. Thousands dead. And he'd threatened to do it again.

Especially since she continued seeing Ivy. 

Another failure on her part to be the Joker's one and only Harley. She tried. Honestly, she did. Okay. Maybe not honestly. So sue her... a girl has needs, and the Joker was only a man, after all. But he was Harley's man. So, she was supposed to be the Joker's Harley. Harley Quinn. But she wasn't the real Harley Quinn... the first Harley Quinn. 

No, that honor had fallen to that bitch who had died at the Joker's own hand. 

He'd killed her... maybe accidentally. 

Maybe not. 

Only the Joker really knew, for sure, though she suspected. All she knew one hundred percent was that he'd lost the first generation model and that left a hole... somewhere. Definitely not in his heart. Maybe in his dick. But it left a hole, a hole he had to have filled. Or maybe it was her hole that he had to fill. 

So, he upgraded. To her. Harley two point oh. She still couldn't remember much about her life before now. Nothing at all, truthfully. 

Before the Joker. 

There was waking up. To sex... extremely rough sex. With him behind her, thrusting into her. She had apparently imprinted upon him and on the roughness of their coupling. That was her thought, anyway. But she awoke to him spilling inside of her, laughing. And she was laughing, too. Apparently, it's what they did. What they, the first Harley and he, did, there at the end. It only made sense for her and Joker to start that way. And always with the laughter. 

Laughter. Lots and lots of it. 

Whenever she started focusing too hard on what came before, of her life prior to becoming Harley Quinn, or when she started spacing out too much, they'd have really hardcore sex, with whips and chains and, well, sometimes others... and there'd be lots and lots of laughter involved. The Joker was all about their laughing and screwing. So much sex that she'd thought that maybe Mister Jay was addicted to sex... either that or she was. 

Maybe the original Harley couldn't keep up. Or it had been to rough for her. The Joker did enjoy choking her. It was good that she was impervious to harm.

"Harley. Come back."

She returned to the present. Uh oh. She'd drifted off again. 

"Yes, Mistah Jay?" Maybe it was only for a moment this time. 

"I said, get the poor boy hard for me, please. I want to compare."

Yep. Gonna be bad. 

Harley ran over to Dick Greyson. Nightwing. Of course she knew who he was. Her ability to see through almost everything had eliminated the protection that masks afforded, well, everyone. She hadn't revealed that information to the Joker, yet. She'd offered to do that before, but he'd gotten upset. Ruined the fun, he'd told her. The mystery. 

Poor Dick... She held down the giggles that wanted to escape. She was going to play with Dick's dick. Her gloved hand carefully brushed the skin, marveling at the warmth. She could already tell he was going to be longer than the Joker. Maybe thicker, too. He'd be lucky if the Joker just cut off enough to make him shorter. 

She looked over towards her master, not wanting to overstep. The Joker was always about two steps away from a multitude of different reactions, and she didn't want to set off the wrong one. From where she stood, her hand on the Joker's enemy's penis... both were getting obviously aroused, though Mister Jay's was harder to tell since he was still clothed. The naked hostage's was painfully obvious to anyone looking, and everyone was looking. 

Who wouldn't? A hot blonde in a slutty clown outfit manhandling a gorgeous man's package. They'd make some serious Benjamin's if the Joker filmed it. At the thought she covertly looked around. Whew. No cameras. 

Harley started to stroke him. She ignored his muffled protests, the gag doing its job. The others in the room also seemed to be enjoying the show. Harley hoped she wouldn't have to perform in front of everyone again... she hated that, but the Joker had said she was due punishment. 

"Faster, dear. Let's not take our time." The boss admonished. "Unless you're enjoying it."

Chastised and properly threatened all at once, she kept her eyes on her lover and continued to jack Nightwing's dick. He was definitely hard and, by the heat starting to build, was getting close to showing that obvious pleasure. 

She watched as the Joker handed the paintball gun over to a lackey and walked closer, his hands moving to undo his jacket before moving to release his own penis to the open air. She'd say this for him, the Joker had no shame. Nudity was a construct of society... and he hated anything to do with society. Finally close, he stopped right in front of her. Never taking her eyes from his gaze, Harley carefully reached into the Joker's pants and pulled his very pale and already engorged cock out to play. His eyes closed for a moment before opening to look at her. 

"Well?"

If she lied it would be worse. "He's bigger, Mistah Jay."

He nodded. "Make the poor boy cum, Harley. The least you can do since it'll be his last time."

She was about to quicken her hand's pace. "Not by hand. Suck him, dearest. I want to see you service the poor hero... and make sure to swallow it all. A last gift for all he's done for others. A worthy opponent." His eyes were cold. "If you do good, you won't have to suck off any of the boys for interrupting. Okay?"

Her eyes closed in submission. The Joker was really mad at her. She'd interrupted his shooting. She'd spaced out. What else had she done wrong? Or was this a "get back in your place" message? How long since he'd asserted his dominance over her in front of everyone?

Damn.

Harley knelt without a word in front of the bound prisoner and quickly took him into her mouth. She'd have to find a way to make him last so she could provide long enough of a show to bring out the Joker's possessive side. She hated servicing the henchmen. They would knowingly grin at her for days, afterwards, the ones who survived Mister Jay's jealousy, anyway. And she couldn't escape the comments. She could hear everything. Harley knew she was a whore. She just wished she didn't have to listen to everyone talking about it all of the time. 

What had been her life before becoming Harley Quinn? 

Two years as the Clown Prince of Crime's girl Friday. Two years of memories. 

In those early days, there had been some instances of a before. Flashes and insights. She would block a hail of bullets from the police, trying to take her and her man down... and there'd be a moment of deja vu... of blocking bullets, but wearing a cape. A cape, of all things. Like one of those self-righteous heroes. Or she'd see body armor, and then she would imagine a woman, face blurry, but short brown hair and the taste of ice cream on Harley's tongue. 

Then there was the time Lena Luthor called her lover, asking for a favor. The Joker had locked Harley in her room and made her stay out of sight for over a day. Why? She needed to be there to protect him. She couldn't lose him. Whatever happened at that meeting? She couldn't remember. She and Mister Jay had screwed for hours after he came back. Looking at the female Luthor must have gotten his engine running. 

And then there was a few months ago... Batman had almost captured her. 

Her powers had failed her, somehow. She still wasn't sure exactly why, but they had. Harley had been stuck, severely weakened and feeling drained. The Caped Crusader had called her Carol or Caren or something. He'd been almost careful when handling her... at least, until her Puddin' had shown up and saved her. That fight had been horrific to watch. 

It had been in retaliation for that almost capture which had led to tonight's entertainment. The Joker wanted Batman and the rest of those Gotham heroes to stay away from her. It made her feel all sorts of fluttery inside. Her baby taking care of her. It made what he made her do worth it in the end. 

Her almost gagging, Nightwing finally succumbing to her ministrations, pulled her back to the here and now. Harley let him go from her mouth, his cock softening, trying to ignore what she just been forced to endure and not think about the taste in her mouth, while the Joker looked on. Harley knew if she gave any outward are appearance that he didn't like, she'd be made to suffer more. Having to give multiple blowjobs to the unwashed masses sucked, ignore the pun.

"Nicely done, my pet. Good girl."

She inhaled in relief. "Thank you, Puddin'." 

"Now, why don't you go get a soda pop. Something sweet. When I remind you later that you're mine, we don't want a remembrance of the boy, now do we?"

"No, Mistah Jay." Harley stood and stretched her arms wide, a happy grin covering her face. She playfully bounced past the thugs, ignoring their disappointed looks and quiet grumblings. They could get their rocks off elsewhere tonight. 

As she pulled a Dr. Pepper from the ice chest, she ignored the current cries of muffled screaming from the hostage. The harsh snip of metal, most likely the shears that the Joker had nearby, probably signified the vigilante's loss of manhood. Harley unscrewed the bottle and took a swig to rinse the taste out of her mouth, only for the distinctive, coppery scent of blood to fill her nostrils. And then burning flesh. Ah. At least he'd cauterize the wound... he wouldn't bleed to death, though he might wish it. 

Damn enhanced senses. 

She took another gulp of soda and looked back at where the two men that she'd had their cocks in her hand now were situated. The Joker was dangling the removed piece of flesh in front of the now emasculated man, hanging limply... the only way left to him, in defeat. A rush of... what? Sorrow filled her. 

Why?

Nightwing was the enemy. 

She shouldn't feel bad for him. And besides, she'd just been really, really, really nice to him. He should have been ecstatic. He'd gotten to put his willy into THE Harley Quinn's mouth. She hadn't used teeth or anything mean like that. Sure, she was a whore. A slut. But not for superheroes. Never for the good guys. At least, she didn't think so. No telling who she screwed before becoming the crazy little psychopath she was today. Mister Jay's pet monster. So, no. Never for the superheroes. 

He should bask in the privilege.

Looking past the gawking thugs, ignoring their laughter and taunts, she watched as Nightwing broke, crying. The Joker had won this round. He'd even removed the gag. Harley listened as the once strong and heroic young man begged to be set free. To die. Apparently, he didn't want to live anymore. 

Oh well. 

She giggled as she finished her Dr. Pepper, contemplating grabbing another soda. There was still a little bit of a weird taste in her mouth. 

The loud crack of a gunshot pulled her blue eyes away from the ice chest and towards her Puddin'. The Joker was laughing while Nightwing was screaming from the wound that was now bleeding profusely, his right knee ruined. So much for all those acrobatics he had been famous for. Maybe he could hang out with Batgirl now. Wheelchair for two, anyone?

"Dearest? Harley? Could you come here?"

She immediately flounced over to her master. The Joker's eyes sparkled. "Yes, Mistah Jay?"

"I'm done with him. He's useless."

"You didn't take his mask off?"

He laughed. "Doesn't matter. He's broken. No fight left in him. Who care who he was? It'll be more fun for on' Batsy to see what we have done." She nodded. Of course, the Joker would have a better way of looking at the big picture. 

"I need you to fly him to Gotham, as is. Drop him on top of the Gotham Police Station. You can light signal"

"Of course, Mistah Jay. Whatever you want."

Harley moved to pick up the hostage. She reached up to break the chains holding him upright, when the Joker's voice called her attention.

"I'd like your underwear first."

She grinned. It was going to one of those nights. Apparently, her having blown the man had been a good enough of a show. She quickly lifted the skirt of her clown suit and pulled her polka dotted panties down her legs, making sure to bend from the waist, sexily. Once divulged of her nether region's covering, she swung the scrap of cloth on her index finger. 

"Want?"

The Joker arched an eyebrow. "Use them to gag the boy. No need for him to cry out while you're transporting him. And, besides, it can be another gift for his former partner."

"As you wish."

Enjoying the cool air under her extremely short skirt, Harley barely noticed the weight of lifting the muscular young man, as her body defied gravity and rose into the air. She didn't have to look down to know everyone was taking the opportunity to look up at her bare bottom and other areas. Perverts, the lot of them. Oh well... it's not like anyone might get a good peek if they happened to glance upward while she was in flight. 

Was it wrong that the thought of it turned her on? Almost as much as what she'd done to Nightwing earlier had? It was a shame he couldn't perform like that anymore. Harley might've had another taste before heading back to her man.

She wondered if Ivy was available...

Maybe Mister Jay could be enticed to use the whip some more. It might somewhat distract him from whatever plans he had that might draw attention away from where it belonged: 

Making her laugh.


End file.
